Date: Fri, 29 Mar 2002 04:08:04 +0000
From: Java Biscuit
Subject: Corbusier, chapter nine
This is a story involving teen/teen, male/male graphic sex
and not intended for reading by minors. If you are a minor,
or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop
now, and go read something else! This story is a fantasy
meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading.
Other stories of mine can now be found in the prolific
writers index.
Feedback, always appreciated, may be sent to:
javabiscuit@hotmail.com
Corbusier ~ chapter nine
by Biscuit
Christmas is my birthday. For me, as a kid, the day had
all the dazzling brilliance of twin suns appearing in the
sky. I felt exalted, not cheated, like a lot of people
expect I would have.
What I didn't like about it, which I never admitted, was
always being the last kid in my class to reach the magic
moment of turning a year older; like I was forever
condemned to losing a race.
That first winter with Colin it was more painful than
ever. It seemed like I was trying to move time with my
bare hands, like the frozen spokes of a giant clock. All
just to get to the age I'd lied and said I was.
He was living at Joe's by then, sharing an apartment that
was fascinating to me. So different from our house, or
the houses of people I knew; old and rich with detailed
woodwork. The kind of stuff that my father detested. It
was the bottom floor of a brownstone with a funky yard
in the back, outside Joe's bedroom. The kitchen was in
the middle, and the whole rest of the place was a big
long living space. Colin's bed was Joe's futon couch and
she'd moved a chest of drawers in there for him.
It must have been close to three in the morning, my
birthday, when Colin woke up me in that bed. I'd fallen
asleep with my hand around my own hard dick, sleeping
in spite of my best intentions to stay awake until he got
home. I slid into waking with a rush of pleasure, his
hand stroking over my thighs and my very hard cock
through the covers. He was naked, sitting on the edge
of the bed, backlit by the tiny colored lights on Joe's
christmas tree.
"Happy birthday," he whispered.
"You're here!" I whispered back, trying to be just as
quiet, pushing the covers away.
It was the first time we were touching since we'd gone
for that ride in Joe's jeep. The first time I was kissing
him as a fifteen year old, for real.
Joe had invited us to spend the holiday with her, she
and my mom had long since gone to bed. Colin's shift at
Tonio's, the bar/restaurant where Joe had gotten him a
job, didn't end until two in the morning. I think that's
why Joe wanted us there, so he wouldn't be left out, and
I wouldn't be out of my mind.
I'd gotten a look at him earlier that night. A torturous
but wonderful look at him at Tonio's.
Joe knew I was ready to shoot out of my skin from
wanting to see Colin, which wasn't due to happen until
somewhere in the middle of the night. After the dinner
she'd cooked us, that I couldn't do justice to with my
nerves kicked into high gear, she took us out walking
and steered us toward Tonio's without telling me. I was
like a juiced up satellite, rocketing around them, rushing
ahead to look in shop windows so I could point stuff out
by the time they caught up to me. Tonio's just appeared
in front of me. I read the name, spelled out in gold
letters painted on the dark window.
"Ready to check it out?" Joe asked me.
"Oh God, I think I see him!" I got a wicked flush of
nerves. The bar was near the front, and I could just
make him out.
"We're not staying long," she warned me. "And don't
expect him to lean over that bar and give you a big kiss."
I groaned. I didn't want to be teased like I was a dumb
kid. I wanted to be a grown up walking into that bar. I
tried to put a grown up look on my face as I went
through the door. Inside, it looked like it belonged on
the set of a Godfather movie except for the actors. Joe
and my mom were among the small sprinkling of women
in a cast of gay men. It hit me harder than the dance at the
church. Maybe because it was grown men, not like a visit
to some boys' school event. I felt a visceral joy, like I was
seeing a wonderful world I could become part of.
Oh God. Colin. He was so fucking sexy in his bar
tending clothes; tight pants, and crisp white shirt, the
sleeves were pushed up his forearms. He and all the
waiters had little bow ties dangling askew over the
unbuttoned tops of their shirts, like they were about
to strip down any second.
Colin was so cool behind that bar, so smooth as he mixed
drinks and pulled drafts. When he glanced at me, letting
me know he'd seen me, his lips curled in his cutest smile
and I nearly floated on to the barstool.
I wished so bad I was old enough to drink, to be like the
guys at the other end of the bar. A group of young men;
handsome, well dressed, laughing and enjoying themselves,
giving Colin their order. From the back he looked good
enough to eat and my blood was pumping in a hot surge
between my legs. I couldn't tear my eyes off his ass and
his long legs in those skinny black pants.
I was feeling my heart somewhere in my throat and my
dick was trying to escape from the front of my honest to
God vintage hip huggers; my birthday present from
Megan. She'd made me open my gift that afternoon before
we left and I'd had to put them on immediately. I adored
them.
I blushed when Joe caught me wrestling with myself. Even
though I was blushing my look said, say a word and you die,
as I shoved my dick into submission.
I could have watched Colin work all night and never
tired of it. The only bad part, and it's something I didn't
think of until it was happening, was seeing all those guys
flirt with him. I should have known. After the way Joe had
talked about how his pretty face was going to make him
rich. But I wasn't ready for it.
The customers, the waiters, it seemed to me like every
guy in that place was hot for him. Like a twist in my gut
to see how they looked him over; how they teased him.
He acted real cool, aloof, but the few times he smiled at
someone it wrenched my heart.
"Breathe," Joe said to me when a very cute guy sitting
near us scribbled his phone number on his napkin and
slid it with a twenty dollar tip to Colin before leaving the
bar. Oh God.
True to her word, Joe make me drink up my coke
without dawdling, to leave much too soon. When Colin
saw us getting ready to go he came over to say good bye.
I can't say how bad I wanted for him to lean over the bar
and kiss me. The way he looked at me, his blue-eyed
gaze moving over my mouth, up to my eyes, I almost
thought he might. But he wiped his hands on a bar towel
and plucked up a cherry from the garnish tray.
"Here you go, almost birthday boy," he said, holding
it right up to my mouth. Oh God, it was almost as good
as a kiss to have him pop that thing between my lips.
"Okay, Romeo," Joe said, "we're out of here." I think
it was only her calling him that, that made Colin realize
what a blatant thing he'd just done. He gave her a look,
but he smiled at me. That cherry was as sweet as could
be in my mouth, and I felt like sticking my tongue out
to show it off to every guy I knew had been watching
him put it in there.
The only bad part of that day was the phone call from
my father. It had come in the midst of my mom's frantic
packing of overnight bags and piles of gifts. I'd answered
the phone when it rang.
"Corbusier," my father had said, drawing out the syllables
of my full name. The sound made my throat feel thick and
my mouth turn to clay.
"Dad," I said. It came out of me like it weighed a ton. He
didn't seem to notice but my mom did. It stopped her
dead and she sat down on the couch, watching me with
anxious eyes.
"I'm calling from Paris," he said, embarking on a well
oiled monologue. "It's not your birthday yet, but the
phones lines are bound to be crazy tomorrow . I sent you
a gift," he said, "but I don't have much faith in overseas
shipping. It probably won't arrive in time."
I mumbled something, I don't know what. He breezed on
to the subject of his latest project, chat about people whose
names I didn't recognize and then started in on the weather
in Paris, like it had anything to do with anything. He said
he hoped I had a nice celebration planned and to give his
regards to my mother.
"Okay," I said, and it was over.
I wished I'd had the nerve to say, oh yes, dad, a grand
celebration planned, I'm hoping to fuck my boyfriend
while mom's in bed with her girlfriend, Joe.
But really, all I wanted was to get off the phone.
It's hard for anyone but my mom or Colin, who know
her, to understand that in the space of a month, Joe was
more of a dad to me than he'd ever been. The space of
a day, to be honest.
Looked at one way you could say that he deserted us. I
look at it differently now. I think he got out of our way
in the nick of time. My mom and I were like ticking
bombs ready to blow; so desperately in need of the
things he only pretended to give us.
By the time I hung up the phone my weight had doubled
and I sank down next to my mother on the couch. We
wrapped up in each other's arms.
The doorbell saved us. It was Megan. With her hair cut
short and a bag of presents in her arms.
"Happy everything," she said. God, it was good. She and
I were slowly finding our way back to each other. At
least when her boyfriends weren't around. Her short
hair, when she pulled off her cap to show it to me, was
astonishing, beautiful. More than anything else, that
showed me how close she still felt to me.
My mom was up off the couch, wiping her eyes and the
two of them hugged. Megan stayed for coffee and made
me open up my presents, shrugging off the fact that I
had nothing for her.
How often had Megan erased hurt from me? Though
she didn't stay long it was enough to blunt the hurt of my
dad's phone call. Then Joe arrived and it didn't matter
anymore that my father had called me for the first time
since he'd left, only to talk to me as if nothing had
happened.
"Colin's doing good," Joe told us on the drive downtown.
"It's been four days and they're crazy about him. I don't
know how crazy he is about them, yet, but he's doing all
right."
Like the nose of a setter my dick lifted at the mention
of him.
"What do you mean?" my mom asked. I saw Joe's eyes
flick up to look at me in the rearview mirror.
"You keep your mouth shut about any of this to him,
got it?"
"I won't say anything," I said, as if insulted by her
thinking I wouldn't keep my mouth shut.
"Let's just say Colin's used to a slinging beers at a bunch
of old farts, not dealing with a bar full of guys checking
him out. It bugs him. The first night he was full of shit
when he got home, talking about faggots." Joe chuckled,
but I didn't, thinking about him at that dance and how
he'd looked around like he was in war zone.
"I asked him what the fuck he thinks he is," Joe said,
"and he looked at me like I was nuts. Yeah, you, I told
him. You're a faggot and you'd better get used to it."
"I don't get it," my mom said, frowning. "He knows
he's gay."
I'd already seen how he was so I wasn't so puzzled.
"Yeah, but you're a fag if other people know it," Joe
said. "On the other hand, he's starting to see which side
his bread's buttered on. He keeps his mouth shut at
work and rakes in the tips and phone numbers. The little
fuck came home with four hundred bucks last night and
I said, I guess those faggots are looking pretty good to
you right about now."
"Four hundred bucks!" I shot forward to press up
between the seats.
"Your lips are sealed," Joe said. "He's been giving me
half his tips. I could get used to being his pimp. I send
him out looking pretty and he comes back loaded with
cash."
My mom smiled then but nudged at me to sit back in
my seat.
"At least he's paying his way," she said. Her big fear,
among many, was that Colin would take advantage of
Joe. That somehow, in a roundabout way, she herself
was putting a burden on Joe. As if it wasn't exactly
what Joe wanted. From the start Joe's arms had been
wide open to us and everything thing she did said,
jump in, I'll take care of you.
Down to the condoms and lube she'd put in the drawer
by Colin's bed. "My fuck table," he said, pointing to
the towel she'd left folded discreetly on its lower
shelf and the little plastic lined trash under it, suitable
for tossing a used condom into. He shook his head, as
if she was insane, but snagged the towel with a grin and
handed it to me. "Put that under your butt, princess."
Then he helped himself to one of the condoms from the
drawer.
"Every guy in that bar was dying to fuck you," he said,
like a sweet nothing in my ear when he stroked his cock
into me. I didn't believe him for a second but the lust in
his voice sent a wave of hot joy through me, jerking my
knees higher to feel him deeper inside me. He trapped
my climbing legs with his hands, folding me almost
double.
For the first time I fucked him with a crowd of unseen
strangers around us; the awareness that Colin wasn't my
secret, private passion anymore. Like a light shining on
him, the desire of all those men. It made me feel a sharp
pride in having him for my lover but scared me, too.
Like he didn't belong to just me anymore. It made me
cling tighter, urging him to fuck me harder.